


of things alive and undead

by sweetheartdean



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: (Not between J2), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Drinking, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, PWP, Rape/Non-con Elements, bottom!Jensen, just a smidge, okay maybe a little plot in this porn, vampire!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetheartdean/pseuds/sweetheartdean
Summary: Jared Padalecki is the first thing that makes Jensen think about turning on his own nest.





	of things alive and undead

**Author's Note:**

> Written for salt_burn_porn, for tifaching's prompt "like moths to a flame". Hoo boy, I don't think I typed that fast in my entire life.
> 
> A huge thank you to cherie_morte, who cheered me on and thoroughly beta'd this on the eleventh hour. <333

Jensen Ackles doesn’t have a lot to his name. 

A couple hundred bucks that he got when he finally emptied the bank account that has been collecting dust ever since the day he had the misfortune of running into a fucker named Mark Pellegrino. 

A bag with his driver’s license, a bottle of top-shelf whiskey, a change of clothes, the strongest sunscreen CVS carries, a pair of sunglasses, and a small medical kit. 

A candy bar that he bought from a vending machine that was tucked in the corner of the motel lobby—it’s currently clutched in his hand, has been for the past five minutes, but Jensen knows for sure it hasn’t melted at all. 

He’s got a dull buzz of hunger pressed against the inside of his skull, humming in sync with the fluorescent lights above. A moth beats against the light, over and over again.

He’s got a pulsing pain in his right shoulder. 

He’s got a sharp pair of fangs, long and thin. 

\---

Jared stares at the blue screen as his thumb rubs back and forth over the grip of the baseball bat that happens to share his. They’re playing a re-run of a re-run of a re-run, some old soap that is only there to take up midnight airtime. He missed even this.

He runs his fingers along the cheap bedspread. It’s lemon-scented and smells surprisingly fresh for this rundown motel. Maybe they lucked out enough to move in on the laundry day. 

The door creaks open, and Jared tenses, reaching out for the baseball bat.

“Hey, easy there, Babe Ruth,” Jensen says with a chuckle, as he grabs the bat by the end pointed at him. He pulls it out of Jared’s hands and shoves a few chocolate bars in it instead. Jared’s shoulders drop with relief. “The vending machine pickings were pretty slim. I could run down to the convenience store, but it’s pretty far and—”

“No, no. This is fine.” Jared tears the wrapper of one of them open with his teeth and bites a chunk of the bar off. Fuck, he never knew a Snickers could taste so good. It’s just a chocolate bar, and a pretty stale one at that, but Jared’s taste buds all but sing at the gooey filling smearing across his tongue. He devours it in a couple bites and licks his chocolate-stained fingers clean.

“Are you, uh— hungry?” Jared asks, looking up at Jensen, and he immediately says “no”, but Jared doesn’t miss the way his pupils turn pinpricks at a simple mention of a feeding.

“How are you holding up?” Jensen interjects as soon as Jared opens his mouth to insist. “The past few days have been a lot.”

“I’m okay.” Fear clenches in his stomach, icy cold. “But I’ll be even better once we, uh, get rid of them. Of Mark.” Jared shudders, an involuntary twitch rattling his body. He rubs his neck, running his fingers over the patchwork of the little dotted scars. Mark wouldn’t find a spot and stick to it.

“I know. A couple weeks and I’ll be shipshape, promise. And then I’ll tear his fucking throat out,” Jensen says, and he’s keeping his voice light. It’s not. Jensen’s the only one who can stand up to them if they catch up. Jared’s not delusional about him and his bat’s chances. He used to be good at sports, but playing for your college’s baseball league is one thing and bashing in heads is another. 

And Jensen’s hurt. Their getaway wasn’t too smooth. A couple more weeks, well, fuck— can they really keep running for that long? Can they fight back when the time comes? Jensen’s tough as nails, but he’s not invincible. Evident by the chunk of flesh missing from his right shoulder. 

Jared flops onto the bed, back against the lumpy pillows. He looks up at the screen and picks on a loose thread from the comforter.

“Chin up, man,” Jensen mutters, lying down too. Jared’s bat is tucked in between the two of them. He got it three towns ago. “You’ll go back to normal life soon enough.”

His normal life. His parents and sister must’ve put up a bunch of missing posters, and maybe his best friend Chad’s been worried—Jared’s always suspected the guy had a bigger heart than one would think from his tie-dye shirts and endless 69-meet-420 jokes—but that’s probably about it. His English students probably have a new teacher, his usual coffee place probably has enough customers to go around without him, Chad probably took Sadie in, and the world didn’t stop turning because Jared wasn’t in it. Not that he thought that it would. 

But still. It’s freaky to think about. He was gone, and the small nick in the fabric of daily life must’ve closed over immediately. 

“I’m not sure I remember how to,” Jared mumbles. The soap heroine cries on the screen. _How can I ever be without you,_ her old-TV-scratchy voice says. Her digital tears quiver.

“How to what?”

“How to be alive.”

“Shit, Jared. I forgot that one a long time ago,” Jensen says, snorting. Jared is mortified down to his toes, his face slowly growing hotter and hotter.

“I— I, uh,” Jared sputters. “That was insensitive of me to say. I don’t wanna make light of…” He quiets down before he can dig himself even further in.

“Of me being undead?” Jensen asks, laughing. “It’s fine, Jay. I’m not upset. Or jealous. It is what it is.” He leans in, pecking Jared’s warm cheek. “The whole being alive thing— you’ll remember how to do it. It’s like riding a bike, I’m sure. And your family will be thrilled to see you. Most disappearances get solved in the first 48 hours or not at all, right? You’ll buck the trend.” 

Jensen tucks Jared’s hair behind his ear and strokes his cheek with his knuckles, his cool touch breath-light.

“And what will I tell them?” Jared asks. “That I got snatched by a psycho that,” he clears his throat, “ _pretended_ to be a vampire?”

“Sure. That works,” Jensen shrugs.

It’s not going to explain anything, Jared thinks, it’s not— it’s not going to convey the animal fear he felt every time Mark yanked him out of the corner he was curled up in, and he thought as the fangs sank into his neck and a hand slithered up the inner part of his thigh, fuck, will he stop again today or will he just bleed him dry this time? 

Mark liked to make it a public spectacle, perching on his hammock in the middle of the nest, Jared in his lap, his shackles-numbed limbs hanging awkwardly as Mark drank from him.

Sometimes other vampires fed on him after, but he was already too out of it by then to care. He tried not to look at them when Mark was showing him off, though. Tried to tune out their jeering and laughter.

One time, he made a mistake of opening his eyes, and among the smirking, scowling, fanged faces, Jared saw Jensen looking up at him.

He still is.

Jensen’s hand is on his chest, stroking it gently. He moves a little closer, and, okay, that was a hissing sound he made, and Jared’s hadit up to here with Jensen’s tough guy act. The sickly pale skin and the dark shadows under his eyes didn’t just come from being a vampire.

“It’s not getting better, is it?” Jared says, ghosting his fingers over Jensen’s shoulder, touch breath-light. And yet, Jensen squirms anyway. 

“It’s fine, just give me a little time—”

“Time isn’t what you need.” Jared stares him down. 

“Don’t tell me what the fuck I need,” Jensen snaps, and that just about proves Jared’s theory.

“You won’t heal while you’re living off these extra-rare steaks, Jensen. You need human blood.”

“Well, I’m not drinking you.” Jensen hasn’t fed on Jared once, always staying away from the vampire parties and the party favors. The other vampires in his nest thought he just was a grumpy, antisocial fuck. Which he kind of is sometimes, but that’s not why he glared daggers at them when they fed on Jared, both wrists and neck pierced and sucked on, like needles going through his skin, like getting three tattoos buzzed onto him all at once.

“You have to. Man, you look like hell.”

“I might hurt you,” Jensen says, stubborn, but his speech is garbled. His fangs must be poking on the insides of his gums. He’s tired and hungry and it’s nothing short of a miracle he’s lasted this long without a hit. “And I don’t want to.”

“You won’t,” Jared says. “Hell, you should have a drink so I won’t get hurt worse in the future. What’s a little anemia if it means I get to stay free?”

Jensen scoffs, but he’s already caved and they both know it. 

Jared yanks him into a kiss. Jensen leans up to meet him halfway, straddling his waist, and Jared undoes his shirt, yanking the collar down and offering Jensen the still unscarred side of his neck. Jensen’s knees dig into the mattress as he arches up, and his fangs catch the low light of the room when he bares his teeth. Jared gulps before composing himself. This is Jensen. He’s not in danger, even if his rabbit-fast heart thinks otherwise.

“Come here,” Jared says, stroking Jensen’s face, the short bristle of his stubble scratching against Jared’s palm. Jensen’s more animal than man when he’s about to feed. They all are, but it’s way easier to reconcile the creepy old guys with the hungry beast image than it is with the man that kept sneaking him food and kisses. Jared’s not scared of him even now. Scared for him, maybe. If Jensen ever fell off the wagon and bled someone dry, he wouldn’t cope well.

“Jensen,” he calls out. “Easy. Just bite me, baby. Right here.” He pulls Jensen’s head down, guiding him. Jensen’s eyes are closed, and he noses at Jared blindly, like he can only find him by his body warmth. He kisses Jared’s neck first, letting out small, growling noises against his skin. Jared gulps.

The first puncture stings, but it doesn’t hurt as much after, because Jensen’s careful, and it almost—almost feels good, if anything, this fuzzy little sensation circling the outskirts of Jared’s consciousness, flooding in and out to the tune of Jensen slowly grinding against him. His hands are grabbing Jared’s shoulders, and it should feel shitty, right, all of this?—vampires have been nothing but awful to him, but Jensen, Jensen he trusts, and it’s not so bad at all, apparently, he’s all loose-limbed and relaxed. Something warm swells in his ribcage and rolls through his veins, swirling around the puncture marks where Jensen’s drinking from him. 

Maybe this is what feeding is actually supposed to feel like, Jared thinks, and his eyelids grow heavier, and his jeans grow tighter because Jensen won’t stop squirming against him as he drinks, and Jared’s only human—the only human here, actually—

Jensen tears himself away, reluctant. His mouth is smeared crimson, and a trail of blood trickles down his chin. He strips out of his t-shirt and yanks the bandage Jared wrapped around his shoulder right off, showing the smooth skin underneath.

He’s still breathing heavy, though, his teeth out. 

“Jensen. Jen.” Jared calls out. “Hey. You need more?”

“Can’t,” he says, voice guttural and jerky, like he’s not sure what the next word he’ll say will be. “Risky. For you.” Come to think about it, Jared is kind of dizzy. It took a fucking eternity for Mark to get him like this. With Jensen, he barely noticed. 

“Yeah, well, you still look like hammered crap,” Jared says, and Jensen barks out a laugh.

“Thanks. So do you,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck, you taste good.” 

“I bet,” Jared says, overwhelmed with a sudden boldness, “you do too.”

“You want to find out?” Jensen breathes. They made out—never got a chance to go much further—but a night to spare and two desperate people make for very simple math. 

“I hoped you would say that,” Jared says. He reaches for his bag and pulls a plastic bag out, CVS logo standing out on white even in the darkness. “Condoms. Lube.”

“You got ‘em while I was buying sunscreen? So sure we would bang? Cocky.”

“Not cocky. Prepared. And I’m sorry, would you prefer I didn’t bring any of this stuff?”

“Hell no,” Jensen says, making fast work of unbuttoning Jared’s jeans. He leans out, mouthing at him through the fabric of his boxers, his spit and Jared’s pre-come making them wet and clinging at a moment’s notice. Jared runs his fingers through Jensen’s short hair. Jensen is trying to get him revved up, but he’s been ready to go for a while. 

“Mind the teeth,” Jared says, smirking, and Jensen swats at his hand with a laugh. 

“Fucking smartass.” 

“Yeah, you like it.”

“I do. For some reason I can’t think of right now,” Jensen says. He exhales against the wet spot, eyelashes fluttering. Jared shivers, but Jensen’s already kissing his hipbone, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Jared groans and pulls Jensen into another kiss, impatient—Jensen tastes iron-y and tangy and Jared moans right against his lips. Then he flips the two of them over.

“Let’s see. I’m gonna finger you,” he says, hands wrapped around Jensen’s wrists. It’s silly, this whole pretense like he can actually hold a vampire down, but Jensen plays along, relaxing his arms and looking up at Jared with those wide green eyes of his. “And then I’m gonna fuck you within an inch of your life. How’s that sound?”

“Well, actually I’m dead. And very offended you would use that word.” Jensen bats his eyelashes, and Jared scowls.

“Don’t push it.” 

“Okay, okay. You’re tough and you’re gonna mess me right up. I got the picture.” Jensen winks. Jared laughs, kissing down Jensen’s stomach. He pulls his jeans and underwear off, too, and glances down at Jensen’s dick. It’s pink and thick and hard, everything Jared likes in a dick. For a second, Jared’s tempted to ask Jensen how is it his downstairs stuff is still working like it should when his bloodflow seemed to have taken a hike many years ago, but… if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Besides, Jensen being dead seems kind of a touchy subject, even if he’s cracking jokes about it. Especially because of that. 

Jared gives the very tip of his dick a kiss.

“I was right.” Jared smacks his lips. “You do taste good.”

“More of that where that came from.” Jensen helps Jared out of his shirt.

“That’s like the cheesiest line ever,” Jared says, grabbing the lube and quickly smearing it on his fingers. 

“Being a vampire is fucking cheesy. Might as well embrace it,” Jensen says. “How does it feel to know you’re about to fuck Dracula?” 

“Pretty good, actually. I think Mina’s dress would be a good look on me.” Jared slicks his fingers up and trails his index around Jensen’s hole. Jensen grinds down, eager.

“If that gets you off, feel free to wear one sometime. But I’m not touching his stupid cape with a ten foot pole.” He closes his eyes as Jared fucks his fingers in. “C’mon. Want you.”

“Ever do this before?”

“I’m a bored immortal guy, Jay. I might not be as old as some other vampires, but I’ve been around the block,” Jensen says, and he opens right up for Jared. Jared scissors his fingers and digs in deep. “I did a lot of stuff before.” He yanks Jared into a kiss, sucking on his bottom lip, hungry for him in a very run-of-the-mill human way. “But never with someone like you.”

Someone like you. A human? A _dumbass_ human? Someone he cared about? 

Probably a dumbass human, Jared’s brain decides while Jared’s hands decide to be way more productive: they slick Jared’s dick up. Get that condom unwrapped and on. Can vampires even get STDs? Again, a question for another day.

“Ready?”

“As of an hour ago.” Jensen smirks, and Jared slides right into home just for that smugness. Jensen makes an oofing noise, arching up, and this is fucking good—he’s tight as hell, of course he is, choking Jared’s dick right there, and Jared takes a second to let them both adjust before making that headboard slam the wall hard.

“Fuck yeah,” Jensen breathes, and his face is pinker than Jared ever remembered it being, losing some of that ever-haunted, grayish look. Even his freckles stand out more than usual. “God, Jared, feels good.”

God, he’s been feeling helpless for so fucking long, and running the show now, with Jensen giving him the reigns and asking him, yeah, give it to me, feels fucking amazing, feels like his heart is beating twice as fast as normal, and Jensen can hear it, can’t he— Jared hopes Jensen hears just what he means to him in between the hitches of his heartbeat. 

Sure, he saved Jared, but that’s not it. He’s funny and gorgeous and eager and careful and more of a bright light than most humans Jared knows.

He fucks in again and again, the lube and pre-come mix squelching with every thrust, the room stinking of sex—he goes hard, but he’s damn sure his eyes are soft as hell, and how could they not be when it’s Jensen that’s spread under him, when it’s Jensen’s hand that’s yanking his hair, when it’s Jensen’s blunt nails digging into his back, when it’s Jensen’s voice begging for more, hoarse and ragged.

“What would happen if they found us?” Jared breathes into Jensen’s ear as he fucks in, and Jensen clenches down around him, his nails digging just a touch deeper, enough to make him bleed, not enough for Jensen’s fangs to show.

“If I didn’t manage to rip their throats out?” He makes a face like he doesn’t even want to contemplate this, but then caves. “They’d drag you back down to the nest,” Jensen pants out, fucked open and honest. Jared bites Jensen’s neck, pulls out just a little bit and hammers back home. “And me, well, fuck, they’d kill me, Jay. I turned my back on my own people, that shit doesn’t fly.”

Jensen’s voice quivers, just a tiny bit. It probably has nothing to do with how well Jared’s nailing him. He might not be alive-alive, but he sure as hell doesn’t want to cease existing either. 

“Why’d you do it? I mean, you didn’t really know me. You’ve been running with them for ages.”

“Because it was...” Jensen’s voice breaks off to give space to a low moan. Jared must’ve done something really right on that new upstroke, because Jensen’s thighs are quivering. “It was the right thing to do. It was the only fucking thing to do.”

Jared doesn’t have an answer to that, doesn’t have anything to give but a stutter of his hips, and Jensen’s kiss-red mouth parts, and it’s good, really, it’s so fucking good, Jared didn’t know he could feel like this, ever, and certainly not in a shitty motel room in some nowhere town. Certainly not where he hoped to find something like this. Something like Jensen.

“It’s simple,” the heroine from the soap pipes up. Jared’s long forgotten about her. She’s not crying this time, by the sound of it—Jared’s back is to TV, and the sound is distorted to hell, so he can’t know for sure. But it sounds like she’s smiling. “I love him, and that’s all there is to it.”

Then they play some cheesy violin music, and that’s the soundtrack to which Jared fucks Jensen, sloppy and desperate.

He reaches between them to give Jensen’s dick a pump, two, and that’s all he needs to fall apart. 

Jensen bares his teeth when he comes.

Jared can’t stop watching his face, not even when he tips over the edge himself, falling headfirst.

“When I go back,” he mumbles into the pillow a few minutes later, the two of them all tangled limbs and unwieldy breaths, “when I go back, I want you to come with.”

Jensen kisses his cheek and pulls him close. They lie in the dark for the longest time, Jensen’s head on Jared’s shoulder, so close to his heart he would’ve heard it beat even if he wasn’t a vampire. His thumb slowly drags across the scars on Jared’s neck. Jared lets him.

“Okay,” Jensen says at last, and Jared never knew that one word could make him smile so damn wide.

\---

Jensen Ackles has a lot to his name. Some crap in a duffle bag, some old aches, a pair of extra sharp fangs that he’s gonna kill another vampire with in just a couple days, some cheesy one-liners in his back pocket, that’s all great, but that’s not what matters.

Jensen Ackles has got someone that reminds him what being alive’s like.


End file.
